Handling Grief
by Avengingdemigod
Summary: Peggy doesn't really know how to handle grief-surprising, considering how much time she's spent in the front lines of the war. She controls herself by trying to forget, until she finds herself in the Stork Club, waiting for Steve Rogers.


_Next Saturday, the Stork Club. Eight o'clock, on the dot. Don't you dare be late._

There's a strange sense of adrenaline running through Peggy Carter, a sense of anticipation that she doesn't quite know why or where it's coming from. She can picture Steve's face in her mind so clearly, down to the exact shade of cerulean blue in his eyes. Closing her eyes conjures an image of his smile, his strangely deep voice when he laughs, the memory of Steve preserved perfectly, at least for now. Peggy hurriedly wipes away the tears that threaten to escape, trying not to smear the mascara on her eyelashes. But the lights strung around the ballroom still blur and crystallize in her vision more than she'd like. She hasn't allowed herself to really mourn Steve's death minus shedding a few tears, because letting all her tears loose would mean truly, finally losing him; something she hasn't been able to bear yet.

Peggy doesn't know what she's doing here, surrounded by these strangers' joy and love. It's not even the right Saturday, which passed so long ago. But this is the first opportunity to relax that she's had since the war ended. Part of her feels silly, getting dressed up and ready for a dance that can never happen, watching the other couples drift across the smooth floor while she hovers in the background like a ghost. The wine-red dress she's wearing reminds her more of the war-torn bloody stains haunting her nightmares than of parties and happiness. Peggy almost presses a hand to her lips to prevent a gasp or sob, before realizing she can't mess up her red lipstick. She flashes back to those last moments, the twin desperation and bravery in Steve's voice, the determination when he told her, "I'll be there." The clock reads 7:58.

Her brain urges her to leave, to save the scraps of her dignity while she can. Logically, she knows there's no way to see Steve again. He's somewhere buried deep beneath ice and a plane wreck, finally done away with by the life that seemed to despise him. That's something she always admired about him-even unconsciously, he fought against the universe that tried to force him into weakness. And now, too late, he's gone, along with the last hopes Peggy had been holding onto.

Peggy hesitates, her feet already moving towards the door involuntarily, ducking out of the way of the dancers who spin so effortlessly. _A mistake_ , she thinks. A foolish, stupid hope that has done nothing but dredged up the grief again. The whispers of conversation swirl around her as she quickens her pace, forcing herself to not break down in public. "One minute to 8:00", she catches from a man with a handlebar mustache, talking to his partner.

The heavy wooden door opens from the outside before Peggy reaches it. As the doors open, she hears the name Steve, called by someone else behind her, and time seems to slow down as her eyes fight to register the sight of the blonde hair and shy smile and bright blue eyes right in front of her. _Absolutely impossible_ , she reminds herself. She must be going insane. But her heart still struggles to hope, still wants to believe that it's him. Peggy knows she must be embarrassing herself, standing rigid in front of the doorway with her eyes roving and mind going a million miles per minute. And as she blinks her eyes slowly, the blue-eyed supersoldier is no longer standing in front of her, replaced by the man (who admittedly does bear some resemblance to Steve) brushing past her.

The other Steve smiles at a raven-haired woman wearing a blue dress, thankfully not noticing Peggy watching him. He greets the beautiful woman (who looks vaguely familiar, although Peggy couldn't have said why) with a kiss and a whisper in her ear. While Peggy can't quite hear what they're saying, she understands the love behind the words they speak from their expressions. Because that expression, of the tingling happiness that she'd felt around Steve, at once is so acutely familiar and absent. A lump rises in her throat, and she rushes out of the club as the clock chimes eight times. It feels as though she's lost him all over again, and her disappointment nearly crushes her.

Out in the cold night air, some of the pressure on her chest the strangers' overt displays of happiness pressing on her, Peggy feels a little less inclined to burst into sobs. She glances up ahead at the frosty sky already scattered with stars, even though the sun is not quite finished setting in the west. She quickly identifies Orion and the North Star- a skill she taught herself during the war, so that she wouldn't lose direction. The stars calm her mind as well, reminding her that the world keeps turning and the distant heavens continue to shine, despite whatever happens to her. Gives her a little perspective.

That night, she notices a constellation that she could swear she's never seen before. Of course, that doesn't necessarily mean anything, considering she's no professional astronomer, but this star cluster is a particular shape that makes her eyes grow wet and her breath catch. The dying sun burns a red circle into the dark blue sky, and the stars encircle the sun like a shield with inverted coloring-looking a little too close to _Steve's_ shield for Peggy's liking. And she watches the stellar formation as it descends below the horizon and disappears, until the night sky is a blanket of darkness.

Peggy leans against the wall of the club, eyes tracking the deliberate movement of the sun. And as the daylight vanishes, the remaining constellation unfocuses and softens in her vision, the knot in her chest finally loosening. She sinks down to the ground, heedless of the dirty snow soaking her red dress and pricking her legs in icy chills, and finally cries. She doesn't care anymore that a stranger passing by might notice her, or that her lipstick is most definitely ruined by now. The ice that froze up her heart as soon as his body did loosens and shatters, giving her a soothing sense of relief that she hadn't even realized was lacking. Peggy allows herself to sob, to mourn the life that could have-no, that _should have_ been with Steve. Her imagination creates pictures of them laughing together, in a house with a white picket fence, finally feeling happy. She stays there for a while mourning until finally, the tears that have choked her for weeks have finally emptied out, leaving her with calm peace and solace.

Peggy Carter stands up, brushes off her now-ruined dress and takes a deep breath of brisk night air. _The world has changed, and none of us can go back,_ she thinks. _All we can do is our best, and sometimes, the best that we can do, is to start over._

 **AN: bonus points for whoever guesses the cameo! Let me know in a review if you caught it :)**


End file.
